A letter you cannot read
by Integration
Summary: To be in love is to be masochist and a sadist at the same time. You will torture and be tortured; you will love and be loved.


Title: A letter you cannot read, so simply an indecipherable scrawl across the page.  
Author: Claudaine (Stalkingashadow)  
Rating: T  
Warning: Slight Spoilers and implied slash.  
Genre: Angst/Romance... I think.  
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles.  
Pairing (If Applicable): Kurofai  
Word Count: 1, 053

--

Dear Kurogane,

It was meant to be torture, your first love that is.

It takes you through moments that leave your heart soaring high above the ground, in what could only be described as pure heavenly thoughts of, "I just want to see your true smile". People who have not experience that thought will feel sickened, you will just grin in an idiotic manner because being in love is idiotic. Your heart hurts and clenches.

You will find whoever you ask will agree on one thing every single time; you will never experience that high above the clouds again - all you can hope for is chancing upon a silver lining.

Blissful embarrassment supposedly cannot be avoided; you will always find yourself in that one crucial moment of utter public embarrassment. You might get lucky and only have to face an audience of one – that person who causes it all – but it still leaves you retreating to your room, crawling under that duvet.

You will never blush that much, ever again. Or so I have been told.

Jealousy may be the worst part of it though, because you are more familiar with it than the others. More used to dealing with it; you feel as if you are immune to the green eyed monster lurking at the back of your mind, whispering suggestions that differ in legality.

That is why it catches you off guard, drags you down and sometimes horrifically melds with public embarrassment. It's a character building exercise and the longer you go without it, the harder you will find yourself crashing down (Would you not prefer to fall from an ant hill rather than a mountain summit?). It's hilarious, what one will find to be jealous over. A small laugh at a joke you find bad, but may be hilarious to your love; the attention one receives when you don't - even if you have been monopolising that person's time all day.

They are all the pit fall of your first, second, third... (The list could be ongoing) love.

Yet after the first:

You may not soar above the clouds, but as long as you glimpse silver that feeling will return - if only briefly.

Public embarrassment is still a must have, without it where would we have find entertainment, but it's usually your love who helps you pick up the pieces anyway.

Jealousy will always be with us, you can't help it, and you wouldn't be human without it. Curb it though, trust your lover and laugh over the little things that irk you slightly. You will almost always find that the person who tore out your heart and holds it in their hand feels flattered that you care enough to get jealous. They would feel hurt if you don't.

They say that your first love is torture and that may be true. It tends to unrequited, or it fails and leaves you with emptiness in your heart you didn't know existed. You can continue on in that way, and each failed love will leave you in a bar or watching that horridly optimistic film. Even if – and when – it succeeds, and you die old together it will – still - be torture for you cannot know what the other is thinking. Can't meld together in such a way that a passerby couldn't tell where one began and the other ended.

To be in love is to be masochist and a sadist at the same time. You will torture and be tortured; you will love and be loved.

Most people couldn't wish for anything other than that.

--

I shouldn't even be hoping for anything close to that. The fact that I do is your damn fault. You watched my false smiles, tempted real ones to blossom and forced other – more vulnerable – emotions to surface.

To be the first to not agree when I claim I am all right but make sure I am just that. It is infuriating; confusing and damn right wrong. Why should an enemy care about you so much, that seeing you bleeding – your blood seeping into the soil, turning it black – should provoke a panicked state of epic proportions. To think I just want you alive.

I suppose I cause you more embarrassment than you do to me. That is what being desensitised to emotions, smiling like there is no tomorrow will do to you. Still though, even if I didn't blush or react outwardly I groan inside whenever I had to rely on you to save me. I didn't want to mess up in front of you, depend on your eyes watching my back because when they do, you may notice my embarrassing little trips. You appeared to be embarrassed more than I, but truly I was the one who was more tempted to crawl into bed, my face smothered into the pillow.

I don't know if I was a bit too apathetic to be jealous. I think if I felt a tinge of green soiling the sparkling blue I laughed. A high: almost taunting laugh. Someone such as me should be more jealous of how open you appear not jealous of who you love: dedicate your life and soul to. Your shy act only makes it easier for the braver members of humanity to approach and befriend you. My outgoing persona allows me to control boundaries, monitor how close others get, well, most of them anyway. Somehow you wrenched open the steel bolted doors and forced yourself in. You then snuck in the children in such a sly manner. Who would have ever thought you were the cunning fox in this story when I was the one with sultry, sly and playful glances?

To think, my 'confession' will lay on a piece of paper that you have no hope in reading – unless you visit Yuuko but you never have anything nice to say about her... ever - is rather ironic. Once again I am evading you without directly doing so.

I lay my heart, my soul and my true feelings out for you but give you no means to read them.

A sprawling script across a page, saying indirectly what I could never say directly, hiding it all in a language you will never understand.

I am only a masochist,

Fai D. Fluorite.

--

Read and Review please.


End file.
